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Chapter 299 Ten Days
Black Sand Ridge Holy Blood Church.

Father Lambert stood atop the attic and, through the stained glass window depicting a solemn portrait of Pope Rodrigo "the Holy King," saw the people in the center of the town kneeling in worship.

He stared blankly at the black-haired youth surrounded by his people, and the huge white lion phantom behind him, his shock no less than that of others.

"heresy……"

Lambert suddenly uttered a word.

His expression gradually turned ferocious, his eyes revealing a hatred as if he were facing a mortal enemy.

"Damn heresy!"

The young priest suddenly shouted.

Rodrigo, the "Holy King," once said: Only suffering can temper faith, and only suffering can cleanse the filth and blood of mortals into holy blood, thus transforming them into saints.

This is also the fundamental meaning of the "Holy Blood Miracle".

The young man named Sherwin Mirico had died from the plague, but miraculously came back to life.

It can be described as a representative of "enduring hardship and triggering miracles", which is very much in line with the ideals of the Holy Blood Church.

Lambert had already planned to bring Sherwin back to the Sanctuary. This man was extremely suitable for packaging and shaping into a "model," which would help spread the doctrines of the Blood Church.

Lambert would then be recognized by the bishops' conference, granted a higher position, and even given sacred relics.

But this damned, ignorant youth from the Black Sand Territory actually performed an unknown large-scale miracle in public without the permission of the Holy Blood Church, curing the patients of the Black Sand Territory.

This not only seriously violated the "holy decree" and ruined Lambert's plan, but also plundered the faith that originally belonged to the Holy Blood Church and to the Holy King.

It must not be tolerated!
In the land of Sariel, regardless of sect, divine favoritism, religious practice, or recipient, all individuals must obtain permission from the Church of the Holy Blood to perform large-scale miracles; otherwise, they are all considered "heretics."

Heretics will be severely punished!

"Paul! Merck!"

Lambert turned his head and called out to the attic door.

pat, pat...

Soon, two church deacons dressed in red robes hurried over and bowed to the young priest.

"Immediately notify the Holy Blood Cathedral in Baiyang Bay that a 'heretic' has been discovered in Black Sand Territory and request the support of the Holy Army to arrest it immediately."

"Yes, Father Lambert."

The two deacons straightened up and immediately agreed.

...

...

In the center of the town, Wang Xi slowly stopped his attack, and the white lion phantom behind him turned into specks of white light and disappeared.

He felt the heat and power brought by the three new holy marks on his body, and his heart remained calm and undisturbed.

Looking around, one sees faces contorted with excitement and prostrate in awe.

The flames of ignorance and fanaticism burned fiercely in every pair of eyes that looked at him.

"Saint-Shiv!"

Someone shouted at that moment.

Immediately afterwards, the other citizens joined in the chanting:

"Saint-Shiv!"

"Thank you for your grace, Lord St. Shevchenko!"

hoarse shouts rose and fell.

The people worshipped him.

The patients who had just been cured by the "lion dance" struggled to their feet, and despite their weakness, they slammed their foreheads heavily onto the dirty ground.

Even worse, some people secretly crawled to the footprints Wang Xi had just left, scooped up mud with their hands, and smeared it on their foreheads.

It was as if the dust he trod upon carried some kind of sacred power, capable of curing all diseases.

Some women picked up their emaciated children, desperately held them up in Wang Xi's direction, and cried out, begging for blessings.

"Calm down! Calm down!!"

Baron Graham frowned as he led his soldiers in maintaining order, but the soldiers' eyes were filled with the same awe.

If it weren't for my duty, I probably would have joined the kneeling ranks as well.

At this moment, Wang Xi—or rather, "Saint Xiwen"—had replaced the statue of the Holy King in the Church of the Holy Blood, becoming the most direct and illustrious embodiment of miracle in the hearts of the Black Sand Territory people.

This worship, pure and blind, elevated Wang Xi to the altar of their spiritual world.

...

...

In the days that followed, Wang Xi temporarily stayed at the dilapidated yet strangely peaceful monastery of Our Lady halfway up the mountain.

Olivia prepared a fairly clean room for him. Every two or three days, he would go down the mountain to Black Sand Territory, accompanied by Hobbes or members of the Mercy Mutual Aid Society.

Each descent from the mountain is a ritual of divine manifestation before the people.

He no longer needed to go to the patient shelter; he could simply stand in the center of the square or at the street corner where the disease was most severe and calmly perform "The Great Dance of Madness".

Golden light swept across the land, and a white lion brought good fortune. The illness, like a shadow dispelled by invisible sunlight, quickly receded.

Each "miracle" he performed garnered him a new wave of worship and admiration, and the number of stigmata on his body quietly increased accordingly.

The young men and women in the "Compassion Mutual Aid Association" who were filled with compassion quickly changed their attitude towards Wang Xi from initial surprise and curiosity to sincere respect and closeness.

They witnessed firsthand this incredible healing power, far exceeding the sum of all the small miracles they could achieve through countless days and nights of prayer.

The leading female saint, Saintess Suriname, a young short-haired woman with a gentle face and firm eyes, held Wang Xi in high esteem.

“Brother Xiwen.” After a joint rescue, Jenny wiped the sweat from her forehead and said sincerely, “Your strength is so pure and powerful, full of compassion for life.”

As she spoke, a look of respect appeared on Jenny's slightly masculine face:

“I believe this is no coincidence. When our organization’s leader, Lady Madeline the Saint, returns to this area, I will certainly introduce you to her.”

"Lady Madeline will appreciate you very much. The mutual aid society needs a force like yours that can truly bring hope to those who suffer."

Her eyes were full of expectation.

Wang Xi simply smiled gently, neither refusing nor delving into the identity of the mysterious leader.

He only learned from a few words that "saint" was not a title that ordinary people could possess.

Only those who have fully mastered the Great Miracles and whose bodies are covered with holy marks, transforming them into "holy embryos," can be called "saints."

It is equivalent to a higher level of existence, such as "divine favor" or "holy cultivation".

Within the Church of the Holy Blood, this would be a high-ranking position, equivalent to a bishop.

However, Wang Xi had not personally come into contact with them and could not determine which level of combat power the "Saints" belonged to.

Besides the "Compassionate Mutual Aid Society" and the Black Sand Territory people treating Wang Xi with utmost respect, Baron Graham also regarded him as an honored guest.

The plague receded at a visible pace, a great blessing for the tormented Black Sand Territory and its beleaguered lord.

He solemnly fulfilled the reward promise on the notice board, handing over twenty heavy, gleaming Atlanta gold coins to Wang Xi.

“Xiwen, this is what you deserve. You saved Black Sand Territory.”

In the courtyard of the lord's manor, the baron's voice was deep and powerful, filled with gratitude.

Wang Xi did not refuse and readily accepted the gold coins: "Thank you, Baron."

This amount of money is undoubtedly a considerable fortune in this world, and it is also the capital he needs to integrate into this place and carry out some necessary activities.

During his frequent trips down the mountain, Wang Xi also had more contact with Hobbes.

He also met Hobbes's beloved girl, Ella.

Ella is a knot-tying master in town.

Her workshop was small but tidy, filled with silk threads of various colors and small wooden beads that had been polished smooth and round.

Ella has an amazingly skillful hand. With her fingers flying across the paper, an ordinary red rope transforms into an intricate knot in her palm. She then strings in wooden beads, polished to a smooth, jade-like finish, forming simple yet unique "rosary beads."

Her craftsmanship is renowned not only in Black Sand Territory but also in the surrounding areas.

Ella's personality, like her craftsmanship, was gentle and delicate. Her face wasn't particularly beautiful, but she always wore a gentle smile, and her eyes were clear, carrying a kind of innocent naiveté.

Whenever Wang Xi came to the vicinity of Hobbes's house, Ella would always put down what she was doing and pour him a cup of warm water in the cleanest ceramic cup. Sometimes she would also offer him a small piece of her treasured, sickeningly sweet maltose.

She addressed Wang Xi as "Saint-Sir Xiwen," her voice filled with respect and shyness.

Wang Xin could sense that this girl, like Hobbes, was a rare ray of light in this land of suffering.

Once, Wang Xi inadvertently saw that Ella was wearing a string of rosaries she had woven herself, made of the cheapest hemp thread and rough wooden beads. Compared to the rosaries she sold to the Holy Blood Church for "consecration," they were pitifully simple.

Hobbs told Wang Xi in private that although Ella's skills were good, the church had driven down the purchase price to an extremely low level and would take away most of the profits, so Ella was actually living a very hard life.

Wang Xi silently made a note of it, and later, when he had the chance, he gave Ella a gold coin that Baron Graham had given him, asking her to exchange it for some good materials for herself and Hobbes to make two real, decent rosaries.

Ella held the gold coin she had never owned before, her eyes reddening, and she almost knelt down on the spot.

...

...

Time flies by, and ten days have passed in the blink of an eye.

Thanks to Wang Xi's "lion dance miracle," the plague that clung to Black Sand Territory like a maggot was finally completely eradicated.

The wooden huts at the patient resettlement site are empty, and the square is no longer filled with painful groans; instead, the faces of the residents are filled with long-lost smiles.

The nauseatingly sweet, rotten smell in the air was gradually replaced by the aromas of earth, vegetation, and cooking smoke. However, the reputation of "Saint-Shiv" spread like wildfire, quickly reaching beyond the barren land of Black Sand Territory.

People from neighboring territories, which were also suffering from the plague, began to travel long distances to reach them.

They were ragged, their faces gaunt, their eyes filled with a desperate yearning to grasp at the last straw. They gathered outside the monastery or in the square of Black Sand Territory, praying for a miracle from "Saint Shwin".

Wang Xi accepted all offers.

Each time a miracle is performed, golden light shines, white lions dance, and illnesses disappear, accompanied by new tears of gratitude and devout worship.

He accepted it all calmly, like an old farmer harvesting ripe wheat. The newly acquired holy marks on his body were the most direct reward.

Unbeknownst to him, the number of holy marks on his body had quietly increased to nine.

These points are located on the backs of the hands, forearms, upper arms, lower abdomen, and legs.

Wang Xi had secretly pondered that, with the blessing of these nine holy marks, he possessed strength of around "upper-level three stars" solely based on the "Miracle of Mourning" bestowed upon him by Sister Olivia.

Although he is still very weak from his current perspective, it only took him ten days to go from an "ordinary person" to a level that countless professional warriors in the main world could not reach.

'They found the right loophole!'

Wang Xi was certain of his decision.

If things continue like this, he doesn't know how far he can grow within the power system of this realm of miracles.

...

...

Although the Abbey of Our Lady was dilapidated, under Olivia's care, it possessed a tranquil serenity far removed from the hustle and bustle of the world.

Wang Xi, unlike a true ascetic, would not spend his days in prayer. Instead, he would voluntarily share the heavy daily labor of the monastery.

After all, it was just him and Sister Olivia here.

Repairing the leaky roof, clearing the overgrown weeds, carrying heavy firewood... He was quick and strong, far exceeding that of ordinary people, which saved Olivia a lot of trouble.

On this morning, the thin mist had not yet completely dissipated.

Olivia, dressed in her faded black robe and holding a worn-out shovel, stood beside a newly dug shallow pit at the edge of the cemetery.

Several bodies, simply wrapped in straw mats, lay on the edge of the pit, emanating a faint smell of decay.

"these are?"

Wang Xi approached, his gaze sweeping over the remains.

He could tell that two of them were warriors, wearing tattered leather armor and bearing sword and knife wounds.

“It was delivered yesterday evening.” Olivia’s voice was weary and tinged with a barely perceptible sadness. “The front lines have been defeated again, and all that’s left to bring back… is this. Baron Graham sent it to ask us to bury it for him, as a final act of courtesy.”

Wang Xi nodded silently.

In this world, death seems to be an extremely common occurrence.

He stepped forward, the stigmata on the backs of his hands glowing faintly: "I'll do it."

Wang Xi planned to directly use the "Mourning Miracle" to summon the clay cross for burial, which would save both time and effort.

However, just as the holy light was about to emerge, the white-haired nun placed her hand on his wrist.

“Wait, Shiv.” Olivia looked at him and slowly shook her head: “Don’t use miracles.”

Wang Xi dispelled the holy light: "Why?"

Olivia explained, “The essence of ‘mourning miracles’ lies in ‘mourning’ itself. Sister Brenda taught us to dig the grave for the deceased with our own hands, to brush away the dust from their bodies, and to feel the weight and end of life in the moment the earth covers them, infusing our sorrow, prayers, and blessings into the weight of each shovelful… This is the true meaning of asceticism, and the source of the response that triggers ‘mourning miracles.’”

She picked up another shovel at her feet and handed it to Wang Xi: "The power of this miracle comes from reverence and sorrow for life itself, not from convenient tools. Only by experiencing it firsthand can your stigmata feel the weight of this piety and truly grow."

Wang Xi was slightly startled.

what?
Is that so?

But he already has nine holy marks...

That should be enough to prove his "piety".

'Never mind, it's better not to tell Olivia.'

Wang Xi thought to himself, took the shovel, and said seriously, "I understand, Olivia."

Olivia smiled faintly, a hint of relief in her eyes: "Come on, let's do it together."

The two fell silent and began digging.

The soil was damp and cold, and the sound of shovels scraping against stones echoed in the silent cemetery.

Wang Xi was strong and dug very quickly, but each shovel stroke was done with a sense of "seriousness and devotion." Olivia took in this detail and nodded in approval.

After Wang Xi dug up the grave, she was responsible for carefully placing the body at the bottom of the pit and tidying up the edges of the straw mat, as if she were preparing their final appearance.

With each burial of a body, she would whisper a short but solemn prayer:

"...May the Holy Father and Holy Mother guide you to the land of peace, and may the glory of the Most High Will forever bathe your souls."

After a flurry of activity, dirt inevitably splattered onto their clothes and faces. By the time the last handful of soil was compacted, both of them were covered in dust and looked quite disheveled.

"You've worked hard, Xiwen." Olivia looked at the flat mound in front of her and breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’ve had it harder, Olivia.”

Wang Xi responded with a smile.

"Besides burying them, we also need to pray for the deceased."

The white-haired nun smiled faintly and shook her head.

Back in the courtyard, Olivia put down the shovel and went to the well to draw a bucket of clean water. She wrung out a clean piece of coarse linen, walked up to Wang Xi, and naturally extended her hand: "Lift your face up, and your hands too, wipe them clean."

Wang Xi did not refuse, tilting his head slightly and closing his eyes. The cool, damp linen gently brushed across his forehead, cheeks, and nose, wiping away the sweat and dirt.

Olivia's movements were very careful; she even gently wiped the dust off the back of his ears and the area around his neck.

After wiping, Wang Xi felt much refreshed.

He looked at the mud still on Olivia's face and body, reached out and took the damp cloth from her as she stared in surprise: "Let me wipe you down too."

"No, no need... I can do it myself."

Olivia instinctively refused.

But Wang Xi remained calm and smiled, saying, "You've already helped me enough, Olivia. If it weren't for the miracle you caused that brought me back to life, I would still be lying in the cold earth waiting to rot..."

Olivia's body visibly stiffened.

A hint of panic and embarrassment flashed in those heterochromatic eyes.

Her instinct was to turn her head away and cover the ugly half of her face with her long white hair.

The thought of a young man, especially one who seemed so "pure" and radiant with miracles to her, touching her disfigured face at such close range filled Olivia with shame and terror.

"...Really, it's not necessary, Xiwen."

Her voice was strained, with obvious resistance.

“Olivia,” Wang Xi said gently. “In my eyes, the purity of the soul far surpasses physical appearance. Your dedication and perseverance deserve this simple care… Please allow me to do something for you as well.”

Olivia's heart skipped a beat, and the words of refusal stuck in her throat.

She looked into Wang Xi's deep, calm, and unassuming eyes, which held only pure kindness and concern.

She hesitated for a moment, then closed her eyes as if resigned to her fate, and nodded slightly and slowly.

Wang Xi picked up the damp burlap and wiped the sweat and dust off her face with natural and focused movements.

From her smooth forehead to her delicate nose, and then to her softly shaped jawline.

Finally, wipe her long, snow-white hair.

When the burlap inevitably came close to the disfigured half of her face, Olivia's body tensed up noticeably, and her breathing became rapid.

Wang Xin could feel her slight trembling.

But his movements remained gentle, only he wiped the uneven, dark-colored skin with even greater care.

Olivia's heart was pounding, a complex and unfamiliar emotion welling up deep within her.

It was a warm feeling mixed with gratitude, shyness, disbelief, and being treated gently.

She could clearly feel the respect and care in the other person's actions, which moved her more than any words.

When Wang Xi's fingers inadvertently brushed against her long, white hair, revealing her disfigured face, Olivia reacted as if burned, abruptly turning her head away and trying to cover herself with her long hair again.

"That's fine, Xiwen, that's enough... Thank you."

she whispered.

"Okay." Wang Xi stopped what he was doing, didn't insist, and simply handed the wet cloth back to her.

Olivia took the damp cloth, hurriedly turned her back to Wang Xi, pretending to straighten her robe, but actually trying to calm the turmoil in her heart.

That night.

Wang Xi lay in his simple room.

He peeked through the crack in the door and saw Olivia dressed in a simple dress robe, kneeling and praying before the statue of the Holy Father and Mother, holding a candlestick.

The white-haired nun looked very guilty, as if she were repenting for something.

'Caus, return.'

Wang Xi withdrew his gaze and issued the command in his mind.

(End of this chapter)